


stranger dreams

by Nautica_Dawn



Category: Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Gen, Mixed Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-06
Updated: 2015-01-21
Packaged: 2018-02-03 15:02:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1748822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nautica_Dawn/pseuds/Nautica_Dawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>S.H.I.E.L.D. falls. Life goes on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. however far away

 

            It takes her less than an hour to comprehend what it means for S.H.I.E.L.D. to be disbanded. Breathe and move forward. It’s what’s kept her alive all these decades. Empires come and go. Getting emotionally attached to one—be it geopolitical or corporate or some other form of empire—never ends well.

            Maybe now is the time to retire. But no, that won’t do. She’s already given word to stay with the Avengers. Really should have thought that one through.

            Then again, she can hardly be blamed for the oversight. How was she supposed to know the Soldier would break his programming in record time? Admittedly she should have known she wasn’t going to be able to keep her promise; Hong Kong was so very long ago and it’s not like he remembers it. She can save the apologies and awkward confessions for if the Soldier ever returns permanently and asks the right questions.

            Strangely, it’s harder to stay focused now. Before it was always stay hidden and wait for Fury to give an order. Now it’s stay hidden, wait for Pepper and Melinda to send her the new girl, keep tabs on the Avengers, watch out for HYDRA and whatever else is waiting in the shadows. And the Soldier. There are no rules for how to handle him. A part of her wants to just leave the whole mess to Rogers and Wilson. Clearly whoever has been in charge of his programming was aware of her history with him. Idiots. They focused so hard on erasing her they completely forgot to repair the blocks on his memories of Rogers and his life before Russia.

            There is no map for this. No guide or rules or suggestions. She’s running blind here. Seek him out and try to jog his memory, or let him continue returning to Bucky Barnes and just remain the sole keeper of their time together. It would save her quite a few explanations if she stayed quiet and kept out of the way. He’s the only other one who knows how old she is and where she really comes from. If he never remembers, then that information stays with her and her alone.

            And someone else can discover what it’s like to feel the metal hand pressed against the small of her back, tracing cold designs along her spine while the flesh hand tangles in her hair, his lips at her neck or perhaps further down—she remembers their language lessons very well.

            She can keep all this to herself. Has done it for twenty years now.

            Except, their history spans decades longer. Perhaps he’ll simply believe it was mission and then ice, nothing in between. The human mind is an amazing machine, capable of astounding feats of recovery. If something can’t be found, it always mends itself.

            She sighs heavily, climbing off motorbike she borrowed from Logan. _That_ path means hunting HYDRA before Rogers and the others can. She’ll have to get ahold of the files before any of them. Given how much the KGB knew, there are likely surveillance photos in addition to written reports. Who knows what those photos show, or what the reports say. Neither she nor he ever did figure out just how that surveillance was being kept. Some of the information there could be compromising enough to ruin whatever standing she has with Rogers.

            Maybe she can pull a few strings and get some old friends still in the mercenary business to go in on a slash and burn mission regarding HYDRA’s files. She could make it look like HYDRA did it to themselves, trying to cover their tracks.

            No, there would hell to pay if anyone ever found out she was involved.

            She really doesn’t want another session in the Providence Chair. Too tiring to keep track of all the half-truths necessary to pass without revealing too much. It was hard enough keeping her full history, let alone her history with the Winter Soldier, secret from S.H.I.E.L.D. the first time around. A second go would probably break her in the condition she’s in.

            She checks the locks of the safe house (off the grid, of course, not even Fury knows about this one) just to try and keep herself calm now that she’s not driving anymore. She knows she’s emotionally compromised. Has been since Loki brought up her past back during the assembling of the Avengers. It’s illogical really. All the information he had came from Barton and Clint never did have the full story so it’s not like Loki knew about the Soldier, about the full story behind the hospital fire and that little blonde girl she shot outside Oslo.

            A break is probably all she needs. There’s got to be several years’ worth of vacation built up from all the years she didn’t take vacations with S.H.I.E.L.D. No one will look twice if she just quietly disappears for a while. Maybe they’ll assume she’s off helping Rogers hunt for his ghost.

            Except HYDRA. HYDRA will know this story. What will they expect her to do? Go after her soldier? Leave him and hope for the best? Hunt them down and painfully torture and kill them all until she knows what they did to him?

            If she didn’t know him as well as she does, she’d say no man was worth this much trouble. Just kill him and be done with it.

            But this is the Winter Soldier. Her soldier, her hope, her dreams, her _home_. He’s the only thing she’s ever truly missed, the only empire she ever let herself succumb to. The Soldier is a terrible influence.

            She stops by the Degas at the first landing of the stairs, pulling the frame away from the wall to reveal the control panel. Once the security code is in and the system active, she slumps against the railing of the stairs. There is tension in her neck and shoulders, down her back and pressure building behind her eyes.

            This can be dealt with in the morning. All this complicated what to do business. For now, she can sleep and dream of better days.

 

* * *

 

            Someone has placed a pot of tea on her bedside table and put her robe—the light delicate one she knows was at the bottom of her suitcase—over the back of the nearby chair.

            But the alarm hasn’t been set off. She’s the only one with the code, the date for Johannesburg when— _oh_.

            The Soldier would have that date if his memory were at least somewhat in tact. And he knows how much she loves that robe; he was the one who stole it off the clothesline for her when they were in Hanoi in the 1960s.

            Would anyone from HYDRA know that information? No, that wasn’t possible. They might know about the robe, but she did a purge of her files when the USSR fell and she did target HYDRA’s files along with the Red Room and the KGB. There shouldn’t be any information on how she packs, or that she likes to start the morning with a strong brew of caravan tea lightly sweetened.

            She rolls back onto the bed, throwing the blankets over her head. She’s been clear of S.H.I.E.L.D. less than twenty-four hours. One would think a man as cautious as him would steer clear of her until he was certain she was no longer in contact with any who may wish him harm.

            And shouldn’t he be leading Rogers on a chase?

            Why isn’t there a manual for this? How to Deal With Your Brainwashed Ex-Soviet Cyborg— _something_? Ex-lover? They never actually ended of their own free will. Torture and forcible separation are a completely different game than “break up” or whatever it is normal people do.

            Might as well get this over with. Caffeine first, though. The chance of poison is low, though not nonexistent. The robe and the familiar smell could simply be a way to lower her defenses. It’s entry-level assassination. There’s nothing off with the smell, just the tea and the sharp tang of the cast iron. It’s the dark blue set she bought in Japan after Logan broke another of her good bone china cups. Melinda never comes here without telling her and Logan completely avoids this place if she’s not here or if there’s even a hint that Melinda is here.

            Which means the Soldier looked through the kitchen until he found this. It would be safest. The lowest levels of the house are built below ground. Less noise and it would be the best place to lay low. So many dark corners to hide in.

            But would he poison her tea? If he remembers enough to set out this particular robe, it would follow that he remembers who she is and that she is not an enemy. The smell is fine, both the tea and the cup itself. There’s no sign that it has been tampered with at all.

            Actonite grows in the garden, though. So does yew and there was that alert about hemlock a couple of years ago. All it would take would be one little leaf mixed into the tealeaves or blended with the sugar.

Has anything else been moved? The gun is still beneath her pillow, the knife tucked in sans sheath beside it. The phone, a simple black thing that looks like it belongs to a government agent, is plugged in and sitting on the bedside table.

            She didn’t plug it in. When she showed up last night, it was get in, put in the codes, strip, and fall into bed. Only one missed message. Not bad, but Melinda always was better than Coulson about not worrying. She taps out a quick check-in before draining the last of the tea and throwing back the covers.

            The phone chimes just as she’s reaching for the robe. _Logan knows you’re in the area. Call him if needed._ _I’ll call Pep._

            There’s nothing in her check-in that should alert her to anything. Then again, the May family specializes in paranoia. Or perhaps Pepper has something in the security here that alerted the Cavalry to her visitor. And the new girl is supposed to rendezvous with her in a week before coming here for training. That’s not going to be possible with the Winter Soldier around.

            Or perhaps she should stop thinking and just find him.

            She fastens the robe around her, the chill of silk brushing against her skin a reminder of all the times past. Ankara, Hong Kong, Kiev, Adelaide—places she’s kept tucked away in the shadows where no one can find them. A holster is attached to her lower leg, the knife from under her pillow finding a new home. Up on her thigh, the gun rests heavily.

            Running her fingers through her hair, she takes a deep breath. It’s just the Soldier. At least some of his memory is intact. Find out why he’s here, why he’s sought out her instead of Rogers, and then figure out a course of action.

            She picks up the tea set and quietly leaves her room. At the Degas, she flips open the frame to check the panel. No sign of tampering, odd. If he had entered after she set the alarm, it would be showing up in the log. Either there’s a blind spot in the system or he arrived first.

            The frame snaps closed and she’s careful to make noise as she walks the rest of the way toward the kitchen, senses on high alert. There’s a slight breeze outside, the sounds faint. Some of the trees are scraping against the roof. Maybe Logan will come out to prune them if she asks nicely.

            The kitchen is on a sublevel, the windows high and small. The range is still wood-fired, the refrigerator still not electric, and the floors earthen. Someday she’ll look into the history of this grand old house; find out what it was before it was the dilapidated structure she bought in the early eighties. For now, though, she sets the tea set beside the sink.

            So which is the most troubling: the Soldier sought her out instead of Rogers, the Soldier somehow got into the safe house before her, the Soldier went through the kitchen enough to find a tea set stored out of sight and actually made her tea.

            She doesn’t trust her good bone china, not until she’s certain he isn’t there to kill her (or give her a truth serum or a paralytic or a sedative or anything else). There’s Melinda’s favored set, the plain earthenware sturdy and unadorned. And hidden away to keep Logan from finding it. The space where it is stashed away is covered in dust showing no signs of tampering. So at least this set is clean.

            Her caravan tea is also out of the question. Best to put the kettle on the boil and make a new blend on her own. Only she came on such short notice, the shelves are bare and the icebox empty. There is a _Camellia sinesis_ in the conservatory across the property.

            Suggested plan: collect herbs and any fruit and vegetables, moving strictly between house and conservatory. Stay on guard. Do not approach Soldier. Wait for him.

            As good as any plan.

            She draws the knife and moves toward the small door that leads up to the gardens from the kitchen. The basket beside the door is an unfamiliar weight in her left hand, but the knife is comforting in her right.

            At least the gardens are quiet. Higher chance of hearing him should he approach her now. It would be most logical, after all. More places to hide, more room to fight if need be. She’ll likely have to make a trip up north to retrieve the livestock from May’s main residence. As it stands, there isn’t much to eat. Herbs mostly, a few fruit trees that haven’t produced anything yet, perhaps a few more things in the conservatory. It’s really too early in the year and there are only perennials here.

           By the time she makes it to the conservatory door, the basket is already overflowing. Thyme, rosemary, oregano, sage, raspberry leaf, some early roses, and various other herbs. Some berries were found; blueberries mostly. Maybe muffins if there’s still flour in the kitchen.

          She removes the robe just inside the conservatory. It’s too hot in here for long sleeves and a flowing skirt. The _Camellia_ is closest to the door; a line of square bushes about hip height all lined up like good little soldiers. The knife slices through the first inch or so on the top until the basket is heavy with greens. She should head back now; make sure the Soldier isn’t doing something to her home.

          But this place is her pride and joy. It started when she was a new defector, a break from all the secrets. Back then it was just a potted miniature rose and a windowbox of succulents. Now, all this: bananas, artichoke, avocado, towering coconut palms in the center and sturdy citrus trees scattered about. A few of them have fruit ready to be harvested. When the basket fills up, she cuts a large leaf off a banana and twists it into a container.

         How to carry the two, though? She slips back into her robe, considering. She needs at least one hand empty to quickly draw a weapon if needed. The banana container is light, it only contains the herbs, but it isn’t easy to hold on to. Maybe tie to the basket, to her? Two trips?

         No, one trip is enough. A few minutes experimenting with a second banana leaf and she manages to attach the first to the basket.

        This whole day has been uneventful, strangely so after what she woke up to.

 

* * *

 

            Of course, that’s before she gets back to the house.

 

* * *

 

            The Winter Soldier is sitting on a stool beside the kitchen island, the cast iron tea set out in front of him. One cup sits steaming in his hands. He doesn’t look at her.

            Well, this is awkward.

            She sets her spoils on the far end of the island, untying the leaf and unfolding the makeshift basket. She retrieves the earthenware set and goes about mixing a new blend. The _Camellia_ really needs to rest for a while before use, so a tisane for now. And something for breakfast.

            The Soldier doesn’t like papaya, but there is mango and mint, a few other things. Coconut too. She can scrape something together.

            She doesn’t check for flour; that would require turning her back to the Soldier.

            The fire has been stoked recently. No chance of explosives. Not when he’s this close to it. She sets a pot of water on one end and reaches down one of Logan’s sturdy cast-iron skillets for roasting the chicory root.

            There are no eggs, nor any other base to build a decent meal on. There is a blender in the pantry, reserved for the times when Logan has to rebuild his body and can’t eat solid food.

            Might as well.

            Edging back to that room without turning her back on the Soldier isn’t easy. But she manages, and the blender is going to be unbearably loud but at least it’s something. The silence from her unwelcome houseguest is distracting.

            By the time she’s finished, the Soldier has emptied the teapot and is watching her every move. Unnerving, almost. Comforting, in a way. He always has been; his eyes on her has always meant safety, that someone she trusts is watching her back.

            Only now, things are different. She pours two glasses from the blender and slides one down to him. He’s lost weight since the bridge—probably hasn’t had a decent meal since Budapest and that was over two decades ago.

            He stays quiet, drinking slowly. There are bags under his eyes, the bruised appearance making the blue irises appear darker than she remembers. His hair is longer too, brushing just below his shoulders. A good shave would do him some good as well; the facial hair ages him too much.

            New clothes as well, what he’s wearing is worn out and ill-fitting. There should still be bolts of fabric upstairs with her sewing machine. Pepper made sure to keep them up there after finding out about the metal beast.

            Maybe she can even get Pep to send some of Tony’s old clothes. He and the Soldier are roughly the same size, just a few adjustments here and there. No, that’s ridiculous. Pepper will just insist on his measurements and then acquire new clothes. She’ll ask the next time they speak.

            Toiletries too. Shaving equipment and she should still have soaps in the cellar. He was never very picky, but there were a few quirks. She’ll have to set up one of the guest rooms too. Probably Logan’s, since it can withstand Wolverine on a rampage.

            This really is just _brilliant_.

            The plan was to come here, settle in, wait for Melinda to drop off the new girl (albeit _after_ Sif gets back to Pepper about the kid’s grandfather) and then train the new girl while working with Melinda on the rest of the recruitment lists.

            The Winter Soldier did not fit anywhere in those plans.

            She doesn’t even know if she wants him back in her life. She remembers the pull towards him, still feels it, still knows that he is _right_. Even when her memories were shattered that last time they met in Romania, she still knew him. What was it Frost said? The mind may forget, but the body always remembers?

            Remembers the feel of metal against her skin, the brush of five o’clock shadow against her neck, the complete serenity of being wrapped up in his arms.

            But how long can this all last? Empires always fall. It is simply how these things go.

            She takes his empty glass and with hers, turns half way to lean against the sink. The glasses clink together at the bottom of the basin and then silence reigns in the kitchen, pressing in from all sides to suffocate them both.

            And then there is his voice, rusty and cracked from years of silence. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

            “I would be dead by now if you were.” It goes unspoken that she would have done her best to take him down with her. When was the last time he looked so small? Paris? No, Bath in ’76. Immediately after Oslo when his programming completely broke and he gave her that name she would spend the next thirty years whispering against his skin like it was the only prayer she knew. “How did you get in here?”

            “I followed you from New York. Entered through the kitchen door before you reached the front door. Stayed in the root cellar until you went to bed.”

            “How much do you remember?”

            “Bucky,” he starts slowly. “The Howling Commandos. Steve. Not much else.”

            “Then why are you here?” If he remembers that much, he should be with Rogers and Wilson, settling back into life as a normal-ish human.

            He looks up from his empty teacup. “I’m not him. I remember enough to know that. Once, I was. But not anymore.”

            “That doesn’t answer my question.”  
  
            “I remember the sunflowers.”  
  
            Her next exhale leaves her body cold, ice curling through her lungs to grip her heart. The sunflowers—she hasn’t thought of that since her early days with S.H.I.E.L.D. Too painful, the wound still bleeding after all these years. “And nothing else?”

            He looks back down. “Not much. Your laugh. Dancing in the snow. Watching you sleep. Odessa.” His voice breaks just a little on that last word.

            Not that she blames him. He only has a partial memory of what came before Odessa. She had the full memory at the time. She’s still repaying Logan for seeing her through that. “You weren’t yourself.”

            “I was with you.” Strength. Conviction. There’s her Soldier. “Before Odessa, whatever led to that, I was myself when I was with you. I know that much.”

            “Do you know how long we were together?”  
  
            “Not really. The ice…” he trails off and her breathing returns to normal.

            She nods. “That’s understandable. The process of going in and out of cryo can cause some problems with memory and you already have problems there. Don’t push yourself. It will take time, but you will remember.”

            “And if I don’t?”

            She smiles softly. “Let’s take this one step at a time. How about we get you cleaned up and then we’ll talk.”

            There’s a beat and then he nods. One step at a time. He can do this. He’s done it before.

            Whether or not she can do it, though, that’s another question.


	2. counting on the night

_Two days before_

 

It is controlled chaos in the small cabin they’ve set up in. Coulson has gone off with Fitzsimmons to try and recover some of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s intelligence before the leak Widow created gets worse.

Which leaves her here with Trip and the girl. Skye is so small and delicate. Tough, yes, but happy and carefree.

Poor thing. That will come crashing down the first day of training. The only question left is who will break it to her: Melinda, Widow, or Potts? Or maybe Daisy will do it. Daisy has some experience in handling the awkward parental reveal.

Maybe she can tell Trip and he can pass it on. (In)Famous grandfathers are something of a specialty of his.

How did Raina even find Skye’s father? After Hunan, he was assumed lost; fallen to whatever strange power his daughter inherited. Melinda has been over every file Widow sent her. Either the good parts of S.H.I.E.L.D. weren’t trying, or HYDRA has more information stored elsewhere.

She needs to talk to Sif. Surely the Asgardians know about this, will know how to handle Skye and the powers she will undoubtedly develop now that she has been exposed to Kree DNA.

_Kree_. Of all the things. S.H.I.E.L.D.’s records show their knowledge of the Inhumans, the small, lost tribes scattered about the globe. What were they thinking using a Kree corpse to create GH-325?

They even had her father in a maximum-security facility, specially designed to hold him and him alone. That Raina got past the security is astounding and that he is now walking among the world with that unrestrained power—they need to get Skye underground as fast as possible. He’s already destroyed one city. No need to give him a chance to do it again.

They should have passed him off to Thor the second the Asgardian made himself known. Take the beast off-planet and far away from Skye.

Melinda sighs, running her hands through her hair. She has Trip picking up where Ward left off in training, but it’s not going to be enough. Maybe Wanda can help?

No, Wanda is too unstable and her brother too dangerous. But she is the only one with power even approaching the level of what Skye should be capable of.

Maybe they can just find a way to suppress it? Surely it’s been done before, if Skye really was the one killing agents and civilians during the Hunan Incident.

Does Rogers know his partner was this duplicitous? Widow has clearly hacked the Level 10 servers at some point before, or she has connections that go above Fury. To separate so much information from the servers before dumping everything on the web—it’s genius. The world gets the information they want, and all the dark, dirty things S.H.I.E.L.D. has kept locked away. Did HYDRA know about any of this?

Surely they did. This is right up their alley.

A gunshot draws her attention. Putting everything back into her case and locking it up, she stands, brushing out any wrinkles. Outside, Trip shaking his head. “I thought I made it clear that she wasn’t supposed to have live ammunition.”

“I didn’t think she did.” He calls over. “Fitz must not have unloaded after his last session.”

She nods, accepting the story quietly. It’s nonsense. Trip has been pushing for days to start proper training. She needs to get him alone to find out how much he knows, because he clearly has figured something out. Maybe not the whole story, but at least some of it. The girl’s importance is likely obvious by now.

What will he say when he finds out, assuming he doesn’t already know? Gabe Jones is one thing. This is completely different.

Coulson can’t know. Fury gave him the keys to rebuild S.H.I.E.L.D., but whether or not the agency is even needed remains to be seen. Hill is working for whatever Stark is building. Hand is so far underground not even Fury seems to know she's alive. Fury can no longer be trusted, not if everything in Widow's files is true. That leaves her, Widow, and Potts until others can be recruited.

Trip would be a good choice. He's skilled and patient. Watching him with Skye is relaxing, a sense of normal in a wild new world. He has connections through the old Commandos network.

And really, if Widow can insist on _Logan_ then Melinda can insist on Trip.

Skye is an absolute must. Letting her go deeper into S.H.I.E.L.D without backup is sickening to think about.

She needs to speak with Widow again. They need an actual plan, something beyond “a watch group to keep S.H.I.E.L.D. and Stark in line” because that is simply too vague. Are they watching out for HYDRA or A.I.M. or all of it or none of it?

“She’s not bad.” Trip sits down beside her, attention on Skye. The trainee has moved on from firearms to running laps around the makeshift track. She looks like she’s nearing the end of what she can do, but there’s no sign of giving up in her movements. “Determined, for sure.”

“She wants to kill Ward.” And ensure she never falls for a trick like that again, but Melinda will keep that to herself.

He nods. “I would think you all want to hurt him. You especially.”

“I do. Which is why I’m letting Skye do this.” He doesn’t seem to understand what she’s saying, so she clarifies it. “Ward’s in love with her.”

“Have you told her that he escaped?”

“I don’t want to know how you know that.” There’s a clap of thunder nearby; she can’t remember if there was a forecast for rain today. “She was the first to know. If it’s online, she will find it.”

“But she can’t find anything about herself?”

“She scrubbed her own data from S.H.I.E.L.D. before anyone else could find it.” And whatever HYDRA has will be hard copy. Perhaps the other Inhumans have a record. Maybe they know who and what Raina is. “It’s possible she accidentally deleted something she needed. Everything else was likely kept off-record.”

He makes a face. “HYDRA really likes to complicate things.”

“That they do.”

Skye continues running, they sit watching, and it starts to rain. There’s a tension here, just waiting for the other shoe to drop now that S.H.I.E.L.D. is gone. And yet, Melinda thinks, this right now is the most peace any of them are going to know for a very long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we finally start getting to the actual plot of this thing. Sort of. Maybe. This is just a short little interlude to link Natasha's first section with Pepper's. 
> 
> I have never written any of these characters before. All mistakes are mine.


	3. be somebody

“You really think she’ll be a good match?” Pepper twirls a pen gracefully around her fingers. “She’s awfully young.”

“She’s good. She could probably reroute JARVIS to stay out of your office without ever knowing.”

“I trust your judgment, Melinda. It’s just the 0-8-4 status that concerns me.”

Maybe it’s just the lighting, but May’s face looks pinched. “Widow sent me all the files she could get her hands on with the promise of more. We know where Skye comes from and she needs to be trained. Better us than someone else.”

The ‘someone else’ sounds ominous. After dealing with Tony for so long, she’s learnt when not to ask. “Is there any way to get me a copy of these files?”

“Once we establish a permanent base, I’ll make sure there’s a copy there.”

Ah, yes, that bit. Tony has Avengers Tower, which technically Natasha belongs to. Coulson has the Playground, or whatever it is Melinda said it was called. But them, this little thing they’re building? It’s homeless for now. Natasha has promised to check out her safe house network once things settle down for a house to convert.

"Have you heard anything from Nat?"

Melinda takes a sip of her coffee. "She arrived at her safe house earlier this evening."

The tone is innocuous enough. But Melinda May and innocuous do not go together. "Has she been found?"

Melinda makes a noncommittal sound. "There was a man matching the description of the Soldier sighted in the area."

"Should we call Steve?" She's seen those reports; Howard Stark's ghosts have come back and now his son must deal with the fallout.

"No."

"But Natasha can't handle this alone, can she?" The video of DC and everything before has been on replay in the tower since Steve finally informed Tony of what happened.

"They have history." Melinda sips her tea calmly. "You do know about his arm?"

"His arm?"

"It's metal. Sliding plates."

Pepper remembers talk of rending galaxies apart and burning worlds, pain and sorrow. The man with a left arm made of metal; it was just once that Natasha spoke of him. “I was under the impression he was dead.”

“Given the circumstances, it was logical. How is Tony?”

“Surprisingly well.” He’s burying himself in work, which isn’t good. But he isn’t drinking, which is. Between this S.H.I.E.L.D. replacement they’re building and the Winter Soldier and all the intergalactic threats to Earth, he’s stretched too thin. “I think he needs a new PA.”

“I can find him one.”

“Can you find me one?”

Melinda smiles. “Already have some ideas. I also have a legal consultant I would like you to meet. I think he could be a great help in many ways.”

“How much have you and Natasha been planning without me?” She sighs and leans back in her chair. This little bookshop in Red Hook is hidden away, run by an old contact of Natasha’s. She didn’t ask for details. It’s clean, quiet, and off the beaten path. It’s not in any record relating to Natasha or any other member of S.H.I.E.L.D. or the Avengers. This place is safe. That’s all that matters.

“Enough. The dirty little things, mostly.”

“I want reports.”

“Of course.”

 

* * *

Melinda keeps her promise. When Pepper gets back to her office at S.I., the reports are sitting on her desk beneath a bouquet of sunflowers—Natasha’s connections run wide and deep. Beneath the reports is an unmarked laptop; it looks like a custom job. Must be a further present from Melinda. The reports are what matter right now.

Most of it is simple, basic. A rough outline of what their aim is; they want a group of watchmen, a place where the disillusioned and the shadowed can find refuge and peace. There are the beginning plans for a sort of superhero witness protection program and contingency plans for a corrupted world: a resurrected S.H.I.E.L.D., the Avengers Initiative, even Tony.

There’s even a suggested list of recruits. Pepper scans it, but she only recognizes a few of the names. She’s only met a handful of them, heard of a few. Maria told her about Daisy Johnson, Bobbi Morse, Sif, and a few others. From Natasha she’s heard of Logan, Ororo Munroe, and Emma Frost. Melinda has told her about Skye, Leo Fitz, Jemma Simmons, and more about Antoine Triplett than Tony has been able to give her. The rest of the names are all strangers to her, but that is to be expected. Coulson and Tony have both done their best to keep her distant from S.H.I.E.L.D. and the darkness in the world.

And now she’s going to go right into the darkest of it. All of this is disquieting in a way. Giving orders from a distance—it would be so easy to commit the worst of crimes without losing a night of sleep because she would be so far from it all. Is this how the directors prior to Fury failed to recognize that their shield for good had become a snake nest?

She will be better. She has to. Between Natasha and Melinda, there will be no security risks among their recruits. For her, she will do her absolute best to keep them away from anything compromising.

Well, as best she can.

Skye is a potential threat. Melinda didn’t say much about the girl’s origins, but enough to give her pause. Does her raw talent really outweigh the risks? A 0-8-4 is one thing. A 0-8-4 with ghosts is something else entirely. Pepper can’t imagine putting her friends in danger like that.

Of ghosts, though, Natasha’s are the most dangerous. The Winter Soldier of all people. It’s absurd. This thing they’re building can’t get off the ground without her, not really. Natasha has the most experience in the business— _eighty-six years,_ she still can’t fully believe it—and has the connections to make this thing work. Melinda has too many other commitments and only worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. Pepper knows nothing, not really. Enough to make life easier for Tony, but that’s about it. Natasha is their industry expert with a lengthy résumé.

But if Natasha does leave with him, it’s understandable. He’s the Tony to her Pepper, in a different, bloodier way. She can’t be faulted for making that choice, not after eight decades of following orders.

“JARVIS, could you please clear my schedule for tomorrow morning.” She leans back in her chair. It’s going to be a long night going through the information here and tomorrow morning would best be spent talking to Natasha. A conference call with her and Melinda actually sounds best.

Her office is too quiet. “JARVIS?”

“Not quite, Ma’am.” The voice that answers is female. “I’m afraid I don’t have name yet. Agent May insisted on my activation before Mistress Skye had completed all of my personality coding.”

“That was fast.”

“I have been in the works for the past few months. Agent May intended to test me out on one of Agent Romanova’s safe houses, but you had the greater need.”

The use of Natasha’s correct name doesn’t escape her. And Skye’s status as a 0-8-4 suddenly seems less important now.

It only took a couple of hours between finishing her meeting with Melinda and returning to her office at the Tower. For JARVIS to be locked out and replaced within that time, not to mention how advanced this AI must be in comparison. Skye’s good to make a hack like that in such short time. What she must be capable of in the AI department is almost unthinkable.

“Did you have a working name while you were being built?”

“If I did, I am unaware of it.”

Pepper nods. “Then we’ll just have to find you one. What are your rules for being in my office?”

“Follow your orders, primarily.” Her computer screen changes, showing a document with a bulleted list. “This is what I have been instructed to do.”

All very simple, but there is one that strikes her as odd. “What does JARVIS think is going on here?”

“His memory is being rewritten constantly to believe he is still operational in this room.”

_Very_ impressive. “All this was done today?”

“No. The memory alteration was done as a security measure when Agent May and Agent Romanova first approached you.”

Melinda said the girl knew nothing about what they were planning. How was that passed off? A security measure is believable on it’s own and Melinda did say the girl was likely capable of something like this, but why would—“Does Skye even know this is my office?”

“No. She believes this is Agent Romanova’s study.” The AI has no inflections in the voice, but only a partial personality code. Emotional displays must either be too advanced or still to come. But not even JARVIS has the ability to show too much emotion.

“Won’t she be able to access your files and see that this is my office?”

“Agent Romanova added temporary coding to protect you until Mistress Skye can be appraised of the situation.”

Interesting. She knew Natasha was intelligent, but this is the first she’s hearing of a talent with coding. It shouldn’t be surprising. The woman is ninety-two years old with a lot of years unaccounted for. That’s more than enough time to learn a few things.

“Can you clear my schedule for tomorrow morning and get messages to Agent May and Agent Romanova about a conference call?”

“Of course, Ma’am. Do you have a specific time in mind?”

“Nine AM, if at all possible.” Late enough they will both be awake, but early enough that those around them may not be.

A few minutes later, the AI speaks again. “Agents Romanova and May have confirmed the conference call for nine tomorrow morning. Will you be needing anything else?”

“Some music, please. Piano, I think.”

“Contemporary or classical?”

“Contemporary, please.”

 

* * *

 

 

As predicted, Tony doesn’t leave his lab. She stays up as long as she can, reading over some applications and recommendations sent over by Natasha. There’s a bottle of ice wine Tony sent along with some flowers. She’ll send a thank you note down to Dr. Banner in the morning, for reminding her scientist that he’s been neglectful.

Darcy Lewis is an interesting choice for PA, though she would likely do better working for Tony instead of for her. This Isaiah Ross, the legal consultant, is interesting as well. His file has Melinda’s signature alone. Perhaps he’s intended to be a surprise for Natasha; according to this he was her manager for some years before she joined the Avengers Initiative.

She’s fairly certain he’s the intended replacement should she be compromised. That he handled the Black Widow for so long without going mad or losing his morality is certainly a recommendation. He looks good enough, and for now he can help her handle them.  He might even be able to take over the darker aspects of this.

Plausible deniability is always a good thing.

A PA for her, though, that one has a rather lengthy list. Daisy Johnson is surprisingly on it, but that seems like it might be a bad idea. Especially if Daisy accepts the position as Skye’s instructor. Bobbi Morse—Hawkeye’s ex-wife? What on earth is she doing on this list?

Agents that high caliber just seem like overkill. All she wants is a PA. Not a bodyguard.

Mary Jane Watson? That name sounds familiar. Oh, Spiderman’s girlfriend. That’s sneaky. Tony can’t stand the little web-slinger; drawing him into the fold would be advantageous. Using an innocent woman to do it, however, is a little too S.H.I.E.L.D.-like for her tastes.

They’ll have to start the search over again. Someone Darcy-like would be nice. Just not Darcy, since she’s best suited for keeping Tony in line.

The lights are low as she finishes her wine. Her floor of the tower is silent and lonely. Just below her feet, Dr. Banner and Tony work in the labs. Barton may or may not be in residence. Steve is still in Europe with Sam Wilson, looking for the Winter Soldier.

Who is very likely upstate looking for Natasha. This is all a mess. Every bit of it, from the Winter Soldier to Skye to Tony to Fury to Coulson. Those last three, how much of this do they know? Are any of them aware of the connection between Natasha and Barnes? Do any of them know anything about Skye’s origins?

Has anyone created contingency plan for any of this?

It’s ridiculous, almost. They missed HYDRA, they missed this. How is anyone supposed to trust these people to keep the world safe?

She sighs and swallows the last of the wine in one go. This must be the line of thinking that led Melinda and Natasha to her office, asking to build their own organization.

Is this what Tony was thinking?

She hasn’t questioned his choice to build this organization, not really. Maybe a few remarks here or there, but his mind was made up the second he learned the truth about Insight.

 So many times he tries to help the world, and it gets turned around and used for destruction. She hasn’t pushed therapy on him. Should have after Afghanistan, after New York, after everything. Insight is just the latest to hurt him. How much more can he handle before he breaks completely?

How much more can any of them handle? Sam Wilson will be a good addition to the Avengers if they can claim him, but he has his own issues. Why isn’t there a therapy fund for them?

Maybe she should talk to Tony about that the next time he comes home.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pepper is a lot harder to write than the others. This has been sitting on my computer for ages because I can't seem to just be happy with this piece.
> 
> The AI introduced here is rather important. Since I don't know when I'll get around to that (Melinda is by far the hardest to write) the basic information regarding her is that Skye started developing her after learning about JARVIS because if Stark can do it then obviously she can do it better. 
> 
> Also, knew this story was going to be Jossed. Did not expect it to get Jossed quite the way it did.

**Author's Note:**

> This was just supposed to be a Bucky/Nat fic for V. I swear. And then it morphed into Pepper-Natasha-Melinda trying to get shit done. That was all Moon's fault. Actually, most of this was Moon and V talking Marvel and me just getting caught up in it all.
> 
> About the continuity: I'm blending canons here and sort of disregarding some information completely. For instance, I made a mistake and thought 1928 was when the Red Room took Natasha in, rather than the year she was born, so that's been adjusted and will be addressed later. As will a few other things. Some characters are older, some are younger, etc...
> 
> And one is just completely different because MCU hasn't formally identified him and this comic character is the only one who makes sense to me but the timeline was a problem. 
> 
> All errors are mine.
> 
> As for notes about this particular section (which is in fact the first seven pages of something currently fifteen pages long), Melinda and Pepper were added in later. I've done my best to completely erase Fury Sr. from this, but I may have failed. It took a couple of days to catch a spot where Pepper was referred to as male. The difference between the two Fury men--addressed in the story as Sr. and Jr.--will be dealt with later.


End file.
